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Artiste:
Smiths (The)
Titre:
What Difference Dies It Make
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All men have secrets and here is mine So let it be known For we have been through hell and high tide I think I can rely on you ... And yet you start to recoil Heavy words are so lightly thrown But still I'd leap in front of a flying bullet for you So, what difference does it make ? So, what difference does it make ? It makes none But now you have gone And you must be looking very old tonight The devil will find work for idle hands to do I stole and I lied, and why ? Because you asked me to ! But now you make me feel so ashamed Because I've only got two hands Well, I'm still fond of you, oh-ho-oh So, what difference does it make ? Oh, what difference does it make ? Oh, it makes none But now you have gone And your prejudice won't keep you warm tonight Oh, the devil will find work for idle hands to do I stole, and then I lied Just because you asked me to But now you know the truth about me You won't see me anymore Well, I'm still fond of you, oh-ho-oh But no more apologies No more, no more apologies Oh, I'm too tired I'm so sick and tired And I'm feeling very sick and ill today But I'm still fond of you, oh-ho-oh Oh, my sacred one ... Oh ...